Devil's Wind Strikes Again
by crystal-mist
Summary: Devil's Wind, the name of that infamous assassin had faded into nothing. Just as the world rules out his existence Shun is back in full swing, back to number 1 assassin. Had all his promises, all his talk of atonement, all the feelings he claimed he held tyowards Alice faded into nothing? Sequel to "Devil's Wind, Angel's Link" (AlicexShun)


_**Warning- This is a sequel to "Devil's Wind, Angel's Link". So you may want to check that out before this one.**_

 **A/N:** Woopdeedoo I'm at rock bottom here and am feeling really angst-y at the moment. I'll continue this or decide whether to scrap this or not on the basis of what you guys tell me... Also, I may or may not continue writing my other poor babies. Sorry for being such a half-assed writer type person.

 **Let's start!**

 **Devil's Wind Strikes Again!**

 **crystal-mist**

 **Prologue**

It was strange... how everything transpired all too suddenly, surpassing any and every possible expectation.

Devil's Wind had supposedly abandoned his sword and gun ever since the day the infamous 'Death Claw' met his demise. But now; the blood that drenched Shun Kazami's sword suggested otherwise. Crimson liquid slithered down the cold metal of the merciless blade and fell in plods to the ground.

The figure of a crouched man lay before him, wailing in agonizing pain. Scarlet drenched his clothes and with a labored groan his lips drew a last breath.

The sword sliced through the air once again, it's motion swift and it's wielder's eyes focused in deathly precision. The figure before him dropped to the cold ground, limp and lifeless. Just as lifeless were those gleaming golden eyes as they gazed upon his latest target…

The chilling wind whipping its way through the dark, dreary street carried along with it the scent of blood. The silvery moon had slipped behind a cloud almost as if it were ashamed. Ashamed of what this man had become once more, of how he seemed to be disregarding that oath he'd sworn not too long ago, for having seemingly forgotten all this talk of 'atonement', of never killing for monetary gain again... Yet here he was.

Why though?

For what purpose had he 'atoned'?

To revert back to his murderous ways?

Was everything he swore by really so worthless?

Was everything he thought he believed in really nothing at all?

Were those flowery words of his just a ruse?

He walked through the streets in heavy strides, rather uncharacteristic of this stealthy assassin. The blade of his sword made a grating noise as it scraped against the gravel every now and again.

Soon he was at his destination, his grand apartment.

His face scrunched in what was obvious displeasure. It did not please him to notice that the light in his living room was still burning away, even at this ungodly hour. He really did not wish venture inside at this very moment. It would only make it harder for him, for her.

He replaced the gleaming blade into its sheathe, the sound muffling out the sigh that escaped his lips.

A slight click resounded through the winter air as he unlocked the door and walked inside.

He said nothing ... he looked at nothing as he closed the door behind him… But then, like a moth to a flame his eyes were drawn towards the figure of a pale orange-haired girl, her frail figure curled up on the couch, staring back at him. Her face was haggard, overridden with exhaustion. And her usually soft chocolate eyes welled somewhere in between desperation, incredulity...and...revulsion.

Wordlessly he took off his coat and propped it on a nearby stand.

"You…you went through with it, again?" she questioned, her lips visibly trembling and the calm front she was trying to keep on, faltering.

That disconsolate tone in her voice, it stabbed him like a poison coated dagger, enraged him, to a point where the boiling fury enough to actually make him **want** to hurt someone.

"Shun…" she called out when no answer left his lips, her voice weak, barely there. She needed to know...No matter the unpleasantness of the truth; she needed to know. **Had** he reverted to killing _again_? Had he started to add onto his **sins** all over?

He knew though...That there was nothing left for him anymore... That peaceful life he… they had once envisioned, was nothing but a lie, a mirage meant to cloud his judgment for a cruel and fleeting moment. His expression did not waver upon seeing the tears stream down her cheeks.

"Shun!" she demanded, her voice shrill and breaking, "Answer me!"

He stared at her for a few long moments, golden eyes with not a shred of emotion in them. He gave her a detached shrug as he unclasped the sword from his belt and chucked it towards the couch. There was a deafening metallic thud as the sword fell onto the ground right at Alice's feet. And with that, he turned away, stalking on over to the bedroom... Their bedroom.

Alice stared at the sword and gulped slightly before sinking down to the ground beside it. Shakily, she took the heavy weapon in her pale hands, her trembling arms struggled to withdraw the heavy sword from its sheathe.

"No…" she whispered to herself in horror. "No…please, no." Her eyes flickered in disbelief as she continued to stare at the blood that stained Shun's sword, a sickening feeling curdling down in the pit of her stomach. Her crying intensified and very soon muffled sobs escaped her lips now and again. She pushed the palm of her hand roughly against her mouth as she tried to stifle them, fruitlessly so.

The noise of her soft sobbing wafted through the walls and could be hear rather clearly in the bathroom where Shun, with a bar of soap and a sort of rough sponge was scrubbing most ferociously at his hands, trying to get the stench of blood to disappear. But it wouldn't. Like a vengeful ghost, it hung around him refusing to let him have peace. Instead, he took to dunking his head under the speeding shower, anything, everything so that he no longer had to listen to that...that woman's mortifying sobs.

The cycle of death was now once more set underway, by him, incarnate of the devil and it would seem that no amount of crying, screaming... or promises of a better world would do him any good anymore.

Devil's wind was back... with a vengeance.

 **It feels a bit strange reopening this plot for further use. But I just felt like doing it. Anyways guys, REVIEW okay? Only then will I be given the motivation/drive to fuel my imagination.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


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